


if you don't love me, pretend

by bananas



Category: Cricket RPF
Genre: M/M, Unrequited Love, im sorry, this fic will make you feel sorry for him, warning: for anyone who hates alex hales
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 15:04:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13592625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bananas/pseuds/bananas
Summary: i told you guys my obsession with alex being secretly in love with jos had gotten out of controlcredit to albiegeorge who had this brilliant idea on a tumblr post (link in endnotes)also this is for s, aka my rockdisclaimer: based on real people but that's about it. all dialogues, events etc are a figment of my imagination





	if you don't love me, pretend

**Author's Note:**

> i told you guys my obsession with alex being secretly in love with jos had gotten out of control  
> credit to albiegeorge who had this brilliant idea on a tumblr post (link in endnotes)  
> also this is for s, aka my rock
> 
> disclaimer: based on real people but that's about it. all dialogues, events etc are a figment of my imagination

The change was so tiny, so inconspicuous that Alex didn't notice it at first. He didn't notice how he drifted towards him at training; when they were all lining up to bat, he would go straight for the nets next to where Jos would be practicing. He would unintentionally look to where Jos was going through his stances and his shots and then his eyes would wander to the way Jos’s arms flexed, barely covered by the short white sleeves of his gym t-shirt or how his thighs strained under the pad straps, beads of sweat running down them or how his shirt was taut over his muscled back. And then his eyes would stray lower and he wouldn't be able to stop himself from looking away until Chris, ready to bowl at him from the other end would wrench him out of his daydreams with a call and raised eyebrows. Alex would ignore the look he received and take his stance, trying to clear his head to be ready for the first ball.

 

Once or twice, Jos would look over with a questioning look on his face before Alex had looked away, perhaps realizing he had someone gazing intensely at him and Alex would avert his gaze immediately, shaking his head, his face heating up.

 

He would even volunteer, sometimes, to help him practice wicket keeping at training, earning him weird looks from the rest of the squad but he ignored them, choosing to take the cricket balls and the mat instead and beginning to bounce them off it for Jos to catch. Jos would give him a grateful smile and Alex would brush it off with a “I'm just bored, mate. Don't let it get to your head.” but on the inside, he reveled in the smile he had brought to Jos's face. When Jason would corner him later, asking him why he practiced with Jos for a whole hour, he gave him the same generic answer, sounding as nonchalant and unbothered as he could, but something in Jason's eyes told him he wasn't fooling him.

 

He started to unlock his phone to check notifications more often than not and everytime, he couldn't help but first search for the familiar nose emoji in his messages preview that would tell him that Jos had sent him a message. Alex couldn't explain then, to Jos, why he'd been so upset the day he'd ignored Alex’s message but had replied to Joe on the group chat. Jos hadn't asked him but he had looked confused when Alex glared at him over the lunch table; but Alex’s glare didn't falter, it just shifted to Joe. Joe didn't look confused or hurt the way Jos did; he laughed it off, feigning a glare of his own, much like the one on Alex's face, before bursting in laughter, slapping Alex on the back and walking away. Alex struggled with hating him then but he hated him all the same.

 

At breakfast on tour, he automatically headed to the table where Jos would be slumped over a cup of coffee and a bowl of oatmeal. Jos would barely acknowledge his existence but Alex would sit there in silence, playing around with his bowl of cereal. Then, Joe’s loud voice would fill their little quiet little corner and Alex’s bubble of morning peace and contentment would burst upon his arrival. Jos would groan at the sound of Joe's arrival and Alex’s heart would soar. He would wait, then, for Jos to tell Joe to piss off or to shut up or _something_ but Jos never did. He'd rub his eyes and blink blearily and then even give Joe a smile while he hadn't even looked at Alex since he'd arrived at the table, let alone smiled at him. Alex wouldn't be able to explain the feeling in his chest after that; how sick he felt and how irrationally angry it made him. He wouldn't be able to explain why he would spend the rest of breakfast glaring at his cereal and the rest of the day, hating Joe so much it made his hands shake and his heart race and he would think of ways to get back at him and then stop, realizing that Joe was his friend and Jos was his friend and why was he so jealous of his friends interacting?

 

Alex would pull back then, restricting his interaction with Jos, averting his eyes every time he saw him and actively avoiding him (and Joe because wherever Joe was, Jos would be too). He would realize, deep down, what was happening and he'd stop himself from feeling it further as best as he could. He'd try to get over it and ignore Jos and his stupid smile and his stupid voice and his stupid laugh that seemed to follow him everywhere in the hotel, at practice, at the ground. He would stick to Jason after that sometimes, hoping his friend could distract him but after seeing Jason interact with Sam, he realized that the same irrational jealousy wasn't consuming him when he saw _this_ friend sit so close or whisper in another man's ear or stare at him when he thought no one was looking. Alex felt even sicker then, pushing himself off the sofa and storming out of the room leaving behind confused teammates with questioning looks on their faces. He'd go to the gym after that, because that was only place he would be able to forget the stupid feelings that he was trying to avoid but he knew he had deep down.

 

(It was either the gym or the bar but after what had happened that night with Ben in Bristol, he had promised himself that he wouldn't be the one to bring that disappointed look in Alastair’s, Eoin’s and, especially, Jos’s eyes ever again so he avoided the bar and the clubs and the drinking for a while.)

 

He'd push himself harder and harder in the gym and on the quest to forget the pain he already had in his chest, he would manifest physical pain in this body. He would push past the point where his arms and legs started to burn and then his lungs would follow, feeling like they had been set on fire as well. But Alex wouldn't stop, not till hours later, and then he would find that the carpet around him would be soaked in not just sweat, but in tears as well. And then he would tell himself that he was crying because of the pain in his muscles and that he wasn't crying because of Jos, that he _can't_ be crying because of Jos but he was never good at lying, especially to himself.

**Author's Note:**

> for anyone that disputes the fact that this ship exists (looking at you, s), check [this](http://pontingmasterclass.tumblr.com/post/163497367770)  
> and, of course, [this](http://storm-alert.tumblr.com/post/170453935936/albiegeorge-pontingmasterclass-i-spy-with-my)  
> 


End file.
